


Enticing Bed

by AQA473



Category: Project Cappuccino (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anal Fingering, F/F, POV Second Person, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 02:34:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AQA473/pseuds/AQA473
Summary: When Colette refuses the supervisor's advances, the supervisor gets antsy in bed. Turns out to be a rather exciting night.





	Enticing Bed

**Author's Note:**

> I strongly encourage anyone who finds this to check out the game's patreon at https://www.patreon.com/Tentakero/overview and support these wonderful developers and their incredibly creative project. Story if based on v1.9.0.

The sounds of nature leak in, the chirping of grasshoppers and a brush of leaves as small animals pass through. It’s so different from the city, with no cars or sirens, or the rushing of rain water as it’s flung from gutters. Everything is peaceful. It feels like coming down from an adrenaline high.

Events have been moving so quickly, you can’t remember the last time you caught your breath. Ever since being hired at the Resting Bean, it’s been a roller coaster, or a haunted house, full of unexpected turns and encounters with the supernatural.

Your whole body aches from all this movement, maybe a bit from the crooked nap on the train; sleeping soundly with Colette’s blue head resting on your shoulder, rocking with the sway of the train…

The green covers drape over you in the darkness as you grasp at the empty space in front of you. You slide a hand down your face. It’s not like you to find jobs to hit on women, but you’ve been surprisingly successful here. The scent of Colette’s sweat clings to your nose, your fingers flexing with the muscle memory ingrained from multiple sessions with the doll. And you screwed it up tonight.

She’d just finished being told that her only hope for survival wasn’t willing to come to the Resting Bean and was well tired from a long day, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from asking for some. Colette was reasonably pissed, and now you’re alone in bed, staring into the black void.

Colette’s fierce, determined, and undeniably cute. Her face flashes in your mind, always displeased and stressed, as if she’s writing a dissertation in her mind. Her hard limbs remind you of the amputee you dated in high school, with a prosthetic leg you signed in your junior year.

Like you, she’s a dom, but you’re so attracted to her it hurts. She sets you skin on fire when she grabs your arm and captivates you when she opens her mouth. You imagine that mouth attached to her face with a wooden hinge. The thought clenches your chest, sucking the air from you lungs. Suddenly, you miss her. You need to see her. Only, she doesn’t want to see you.

Silence breaks as a door opens down the hallway, creaking as light fills the space.

“Okay. Just promise me you’ll think about it,” you hear Colette say. She sounds worried, scared?

Indecipherable mumbling follows then the door closes, shutting out the light. Your heart races, hearing footsteps grow louder, coming to your room. Without thinking, you pull back your arms and shut your eyes. Your body relaxes and you mouth hangs open as you pretend to sleep.

The footsteps stop. Five, ten seconds go by.

“Hmph.” She sounds almost amused. “Asleep already? I feel it, too.” There’s a shifting noise as she walks closer, bare feet padding in the carpet.

You hear her towel running across her skin. Your mouth dries, but you refuse to move, moisten you lips, open your eyes. This moment is sacred, so you breath steadily with extreme effort.

A moment later, the towel falls to the floor some distance away. She must look beautiful, held in the glow of darkness. But you resist.

“What do you dream of?” She says. “I dream of dark rooms, ropes binding my limbs, evil laughter beside my ear.” She swallows loudly. “But… you, you stranger, have given me safety.” She laughs. “And maybe a little hope. I hope you dream of smooth skin and bright days. You’ve handled so much in so few days.”

You stop breathing. Has she noticed? She isn’t doing anything. You almost jump when soft lips touch your cheek.

“Ask me again, later. Maybe I’ll say ‘yes.’”

Your heart pounds feverishly in your chest as she moves around the room. If she could see you in the darkness, she would see flushed skin marred with sweat. You’re wet and instinctually rub your legs together. Judging by Colette’s movements, she hasn’t noticed.

Then, she’s beside the bed again, pressing her weight into the mattress. It dips, but only slightly. She’s so light, so small. You allow your eyes to open, crusted together with moisture. Her back is turned to you. She’s wearing boyshorts and her tank-top from today. You want to reach forward and touch her, but again, you resist, shutting your eyes as she shifts.

“Let’s hope for tomorrow,” she says. She takes the blanket over you and joins you beneath it, keeping her back to you and facing the doorway. It’s dark and you hear her breathing, feel her soft heartbeat through the mattress springs.

Your eyes absorb what little light exists and you trace the shallow lines on Colette’s back. Her tank-top curves with her shoulder blade, the center of her back exposed. You swallow softly. You can’t wait any longer.

Your arms reach forward, one slipping in the space between Colette’s side and the mattress, and the other sneak under the blanket and over her body. Your hands press into her belly and you tug her towards you, dragging her carefully over the bed.

“Puh- you’re awake!?” She hisses quietly. She’s aware of Cerise elsewhere in the house.

Your breath falls over her neck. She shivers in your arms. Cold wood touches your hands, but doesn’t pull them away.

“H-how long have you been awake for?”

“Mmh,” you mumble, rubbing your forehead against her back. She’s so warm. The heat in her body radiates out into your arms and you squeeze softly. “I haven’t slept,” you say with a grin.

She elbows you in the belly. The wooden joint stings and you think it’ll bruise.

“Of course you would trick me like that. So you heard everything?”

“Honestly, you didn’t say anything too bad,” you say, kissing the nape of her neck.

She shuffles her shoulders, but otherwise doesn’t resist.

“Can… is it okay? This?” You squeeze your hands on her belly.

Her breathes come out slow and careful, her hands gently resting on yours. Her head sinks into the pillow beside yours. “… It’s fine.” She pinches your hand.

“Ow!” You yelp.

“Just don’t trick me again.”

“Scout’s honor,” you say.

“Mhm.” She sounds unconvinced.

She settles into you, her back pressing against your breasts. You suck in a breath and hold it until you feel her exhale. She’s so hot. You can only imagine what her ass is feeling, pushing into your groin. Will she tell how wet you are?

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“For what?”

“For being short with you earlier.”

You remain silent, rubbing her belly softly. One of her hands laces the fingers through yours.

“You’ve been sweet with me, cooperating with everything I’ve asked of you, and even working with Sophie to find a way of saving me. It… I don’t have a lot of friends. Thank you, I guess.”

“You’re bad at this,” you say, hugging her close.

“Shut up.” Her shoulder tense up and she grabs your hands, holding them.

She nestles into you, her smaller form fitting almost perfectly against you. Your right arm reaches up, pushing the center of her chest. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling you breath hit your face as it bounces off her neck.

Light fills the hall, then again when the hall light is turned on. You feel Colette jerk suddenly as light hits her dark-adjusted eyes. You just hide in her hair.

Footsteps approach then stop.

“Oh! A-already asleep, I see. Well, um, good night, you two! Oh, you can’t hear me. Um, n-never…” Cerise shuffles away and the light turns off a few moments later. A door closes and you’re alone with Colette once again.

You both giggle quietly.

“She’s nothing like Sophie,” Colette says.

“I can see why they’re friends, though,” you say.

“Yeah. I get what you mean.”

You nuzzle into her and run a hand across the exterior of her thigh.

She sighs, places her hand over yours. “I’m glad it was you.” The words are barely a whisper.

“For what?”

“I could have done it with Sophie, or even masturbated, for fuck’s sake.” She runs her free hand through her bangs. “But instead, it was me and you in the woods.” She squeezes your hand.

You kiss her neck, her jaw, and nibble on her ear. Her breathing becomes labored and her left leg slips between yours.

Your hand trails down her thigh, slowly and with pressure. It’s hard wood, but you know she feels it. Your other hand grabs one of her tits and squeezes just as you reach her pussy, rubbing it through her shorts.

“Fuck…” she breathes. A wooden hand comes from the covers to grip your shoulder.

You slide your hand under her shorts and press two fingers inside her.

“Uhn.” She keeps quiet, covering her mouth with a hand. The wood does little to stifle her moans.

You thrust into her several times, feeling her getting wetter by the second. Then, you pull out, go to her back, and slide your juice-slick fingers down the opposite side of her boyshorts. You push against her ass, she flexes, and your fingers fall in.

Your other hand cups her mouth just as she screams. She jolts and her hands grasp at you, the bed, the pillow, searching for stability.

You find her sensitive spot, a place you’ve familiarized yourself with, and build a rhythm. She moans, thrusting her pelvis back into your palm as your fingers penetrate her.

She’s tight, hot, and all over you. Her spit coats your palm as you hold her mouth, kissing her throat, biting her shoulder. Every motion makes her shiver and quake, holding every moment you give to her.

She yanks your hand from her mouth, grabs you by the back of the head, and pulls you into a deep kiss. You’ve never kissed her before. In fact, you can’t remember the last time you kissed anyone. She’s bitter and rough, but her tongue teases your mouth with such care and ease you can’t stop yourself from quivering. You moan into her, your fingers digging deeper into her, pulling at taut muscles.

Liquid leaks between her legs, seeping through your fingers, as she shakes for a moment. You hold your fingers, only the sound of her mouth on yours filling your ears. She clenches hard, then relaxes.

Your other hand thrusts down into her shorts and you fuck both holes, back and forth.

“Oh… god,” she coughs, bracing herself on your thigh.

Her last orgasm still rocks a little into her hand but you keep going, stroking her insides and pinching her muscles.

She leans back to kiss you again, this time only using your mouth to stifle her moans.

This feels right. She fits you like a fucking sock and it feels _right_. As opposed to wrong, which certainly doesn’t pertain to this. She’s warm around your fingers, cozy in your arms, and needy in your mouth.

Your fingers strum her insides like a six-string bass and her back grows taut against you. Doll-like fingers find their way into you and you nearly bite her tongue from the shock. Only when the digits penetrate you do you realize how close you are to coming.

Colette rocks into you, and you push back, both creating a familiar rhythm. It builds inside you, and her clenching walls tell you she’s doing the same.

You thrust into her wooden hand, the joints crackling inside you, and feel it like a drum. Your hip shakes, clenching and relaxing rapidly, exhausting you but feeling _so good_. Colette’s moans vibrate down your throat as she shakes, coming onto your fingers.

You can’t stop this time, rubbing her clit between your fingers until her lips break off and she screams into the darkness.

Your juices soak the bed, and it creaks as its inhabitants shake. With a sigh, you rest. Colette’s hand finds yours, leaning her sweaty back into you.

“Uh…” She moans.

“Mmh,” you agree.

You both laugh, Colette covering her face.

“I feel like a child,” she says, a slight quiver in her voice.

You kiss her cheek. “Shall we sleep?”

She pulls your hand to her face and nuzzles it.

“That would be best, I think,” she says.

“And then another bath in the morning.”

More laughter, more words, and then silence. Only, this time, you can’t stop yourself from smiling.


End file.
